for the woman who flagged me down
from across the parking lot
to return the miniature flashlight
that slipped from my pocket
during coffee time with my beloved
and one earlier among her co-workers
expressing gratitude for kindness
shown toward her by strangers,
such a daily surprise to her,
i hear these things
at the shimmering edge of light
then find them coalescing into limbs
an osage orange the quick flicker
of a hummingbird to the nectar offered
in the clear sky
just outside the window
relaxing with those i love
amid dishes, stories of owls,
the gift of lessons highlighted in pain,
the next deep sigh of satisfaction

©John Greenleaf-Maple 6/10/17